The Drunkening

[legionnpcs]

Who| Open to everyone!
What| A night on the town
Where| Galaxic, the hottest new club/bar in New Metropolis
When| After all the galactus stuff
Warnings/Notes| Almost guaranteed to have drunken children

The line outside Galaxic went around the block but all the Legionnaires had to do was flash their flight rings and even the people waiting in line wanted them to be allowed in first. As promised by the management, they were allowed in without a cover charge, and they would also find that every drink and food order was free. The United Planets as a whole definitely knew how to show their appreciation for the Legion.

In the 18+ side of the establishment, there were two sections. One was a more standard bar, decorated in a way that made it a perfect blend of classy and glitzy. The blue lighting and organically sculpted wall sconces gave it a bit of glamour, but the bar, the floor, the chairs, the padded stools, and all the tables were made from a smooth, dark, lacquered hardwood. The menu had a nice array of food from a variety of cultures, and alongside synthehol (like Silverale), the bar had made a daring (retro) decision to serve a few varieties of actual alcohol, for the adventurous and/or old-fashioned to try.

In the other section of the 18+ side, there was a dance floor and music, and the soundproofing was good enough that the music couldn't really be heard in the main bar. Deeper in the dancing area, it turned out that the adult side had its own anti-grav moon bounce, too.

In the 14-18 side of the establishment, everything was a little more hip, and it was split into a multi-floor club. The first floor had a massive dance floor, with multi-colored neon rave lights, and patterns projected in high definition on the dance floor. The dancefloor had a lounge area around it full of poofy purple couches and chairs for people to rest in. There was a seating area with tables there as well, opposite the side of the room with the DJ. While this little area looked like nothing more than a cafe with snacks and non-alcoholic beverages, it was also a bar and synthehol was also served here (though alcohol wasn't). Some of the drinks glowed in the dark or looked like swirling galaxies.

The first floor had an open ceiling that allowed club-goers to look up and see the other two levels of the club, and allowed the music to be heard on those levels, too. On the second level was an arcade, filled with very futuristic games, including Simroom suites and other virtual reality festivities. The third level held a massive room with a high ceiling and an anti-grav moon bounce, where club-goers could bounce off the walls and floors and floating bounce pads to dance around and mosh to the music.

Both the adult and younger side of the club served synthehol, which was non-addictive and hard to taste when mixed into drinks. While it was possible for someone drinking it to get very, very drunk, no matter how much they drank it wouldn't cause any harm to their bodies or cause them to throw up or black out.

The club/bar was filled to the brim with sentients of many species, all hoping to have a fun night on the town.

[ooc: Players can feel free to make up details about the food, drinks, and games.]

Comments

[headinjuries]

The place reminded Sam a lot of that rave Hummingbird had dragged them to once upon a time, albeit with less mindblasting of the bouncers to get him inside. It was actually pretty cool, seeing people just wave them forward in line when they caught a glimpse of the flight ring.

People thought they were cool.

People actually thinking he wasn't a loser was kind of a novelty. He could get used to this.

The dancing and the arcade would keep for later, though, because Sam had exactly the kind of appetite to be expected from a fifteen-year-old boy, and as such, he had priorities. Priorities like piling into a couch and scoping out the snack menu. There had to be some kind of far future equivalent of hot wings or something, right? (But who knew what kind of weird synthetic plant crap it was made out of.)

The drink menu was impressive, but minimalist. A few notes about flavors, but not a full ingredient list on each drink; a few symbols sprinkled across the menu to denote something or other, he wasn't sure what. (Calories or something stupid like that? Who cared, he wasn't trying to watch his figure.) He was considering just closing his eyes and ordering the first thing his finger landed on, until one drink on the list jumped out at him.

"Okay, if they really have a drink called the Supernova, that's gotta be fate or something."

[sofresh]

Superboy, on the other hand, was pretty used to being thought of as cool, so this wasn't anything new. It was still nice to bask in the attention, though, and bask was what he did. His main priority when he'd arrived was showing off (even if his powers weren't quite as awesome as they used to be—that sure wasn't going to stop him), but it wasn't too long before he also needed to take a break and maybe have something to drink.

So, when he noticed the couch not looking too occupied at the moment, Kon made his way over and dropped into the seat beside Sam. Instead of picking up a menu of his own, he kind of just casually leaned over and looked at whatever Sam was looking at.

(Was this how normal people made friends—)

"Think so? That kinda name is like, a total futuristic cliché. It sounds like something out of an old sci-fi movie."

...he said, not at all realizing what the connection actually was here.

[headinjuries]

"Hey, I didn't pick my hero name."

Though he'd never put all that much thought into where it came from, honestly, but from what he did know about space...

"I mean, stuff becomes cliché for a reason, though, right? Because it works." He thought Nova was a perfectly awesome name, thank you very much - "Lighting up the dark and all that stuff. I wonder if the drink glows."

[sofresh]

"...oh." He blinked. "Of course that's your name. I knew that."

Superboy absolutely did not know that.

"In that case, if I were you, I'd be pretty offended if it didn't," he said, glancing around then for a waiter or a (preferably cute) waitress to flag down. He totally just invited himself to chill with this kid and it looked like he'd be staying a while. "I mean, if it doesn't glow, what's the point?"

It wasn't even high expectations for the future, these things were supposed to just be a given.

[headinjuries]

Sam didn't mind this guy inviting himself, really. If you were going to get someone's attention, he'd take someone crashing his table over someone punching him off his skateboard.

"Guess we'll find out." He flipped to the page of the menu with the food and frowned thoughtfully. "Oh, man. Sliders. But I don't know if it's worth trusting fake vegetarian sliders."

[sofresh]

"You know, normally, I wouldn't risk it," he said thoughtfully. Actually, he wouldn't go anywhere near it at all. Vegetarian? Please. "But it's all free, right? So if you don't like it, you don't have to feel bad about not finishing it. You can just get something else."

That seemed pretty reasonable. Maybe even a little too reasonable. But after he said it, he suddenly had another thought, and paused. Actually...

"Why don't we just try everything?"

[ringslinging]

Synthehol was an impressive innovation in food science, to be sure, but Hal was old-fashioned, and drinking felt a little weird without a proper burn on the way down. He was getting used to going without it, given the ubiquity of the synthetic stuff and the apparent unpopularity of the old ways, but a line of text hiding at the bottom of the menu caught his attention, and he tossed the menu down on the bar and looked to the bartender.

"So. What's good out of the retro alcohol?"

Normally Hal wasn't financially stable enough to go for much above the rotgut, but if someone else was picking up the tab...

The bottle of whiskey the bartender produced from beneath the bar had some fairly old dates on the seal and was covered in a thin layer of dust. Clearly, this wasn't a request they got terribly often.

Or maybe they just saved the good stuff for VIPs, but either way, Hal wasn't complaining.

[got_gud]

Much like Hal, Alexander hadn't had much of a taste for synthehol. In fact, one could say his tastes were even more old fashioned.

After all, while Astora had its share of liquors like whiskey and brandy through trade, it was a relatively poor kingdom, and each village tended to have its own unique take on aqua vitae, most involving tinctures of spices, herbs, and roots. Mostly roots.

Despite his rather simple tastes, though, he wasn't above indulging in a little luxury every once in a while. Especially if it was on the house.

And so, from a few seats down at the bar, Alexander glanced over at Hal, raising a snifter of Cognac in his direction in a silent toast, before returning to his drink.

[ringslinging]

Hal raised his glass in return. He hadn't exchanged all that many words with Alexander, so far - not deliberately, more a case of their paths not crossing much - but from the impression he'd gotten, the man reminded him of some of his comrades back home in the Corps. Exactly the kind of serious dedication that was great to have at your back in a fight, but not so much on the social skills.

Then again, the fact that he was here with them at all put him ahead of some of those.

"You're looking pretty good for a guy who just got reported dead."

The number of hastily retracted news blurbs about the death of a Legionnaire in the line of duty had been...impressive.

[got_gud]

"Tales of my demise have been somewhat overstated," he replied with a chuckle.

He has absolutely no idea who Mark Twain is, nor that he just partially quoted him.

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiments. Some of those obituaries were quite lovely."

It was strange being venerated as a hero. The concept of the media was fairly foreign to him, much less one that held him in high esteem. Though he'd done heroic deeds in the past, few people back home thought of him as a hero. In fact, there were more than a few who viewed him in a less than favorable light due to several key choices he made in the past.

"I heard your own team faced its share of harrowing experiences," he continued, pushing those thoughts away. "It is good you made it out relatively unharmed."

[ringslinging]

Hal was probably better prepared for the media circus than most of the others, all things considered; he was used to them taking an interest, as a member of the Justice League, and gossip rags tended to speculate here and there - it was mostly just the level to which the gossip rags and the news were intertwined and nigh indistinguishable that took some adjusting. (Though he couldn't honestly say it was a surprise, given the patterns that had already been showing in the media of his own time.)

"I think I'd have preferred the straight fight, honestly. It was mostly psychological bullshit on our end." He'd known to expect it, and he did consider that mission to have been the best one to put him on, given his past experience with the Spectre, but tackling his inner demons was twice as exhausting as a good fight.

After a while, he really just longed for an enemy he could punch in the face and be done with.

[fourstars]

Gohan could not feel more awkward if he tried.

Granted, watching people eagerly wave at him as he walked into the bar was a nice feeling. But at the same time, it only highlighted how uncomfortable he felt in the spotlight. It was the reason why he had a secret identity, the reason why he didn't mind that Mr. Satan took credit for killing Cell. He liked to put his powers to good use, but... it was already difficult enough for him to have a normal life, and this didn't help.

All the same, everyone was excited about having some down time, and he didn't want to just hole himself up. So he decided to come, against his better judgement. He tried to dress up a little nicer than usual, wearing a yellow suit, dark blue tie, and a pair of comfortable dark brown slacks. All the same, it did nothing to hide how uncomfortable he looked as he walked up to the counter, and took a seat on one of the stools.

"Um, hi..." He said to the bartender, offering a sheepish smile. "J-Just uh... just water, for now..."

[notwithoutafight]

For once, Videl was starting to feel a bit more comfortable outside the Legion World. The crowds, the screaming fans, the endless paparazzi-- it all felt like home for her. The big difference was that there were a lot more people cheering for her than there used to be. Oh yeah, she was used to being mobbed by the press at every turn, but usually it was so they could ask about her father, not her. Her fame had always been in proxy to Mr. Satan; having her own limelight was notably (but not disparagingly) different.

Videl could tell right away that Gohan was having the opposite experience with the Legion's newfound fame. She was almost amazed at how much of a shrinking violet he could be when they entered the club. (It had taken all her nagging to get him to go out to the club at all.) He looked more like he was dressed for school picture day than a night of fun and Videl had been struggling valiantly not to laugh at the sight.

She came up beside him at the bar as he ordered. "Come on, Gohan, at least try one of the drinks." She picked up a menu from the bar, opening it to a veritable rainbow of mixed drinks (a few of which actually were rainbows). "Hey, I want to try this one," Videl shouted to the bartender, brandishing the menu at him and pointing to one of the rainbow drinks.

[fourstars]

"I-I uh... I'd rather not..."

Gohan had never really been that interested in alcoholic drinks. Nevermind the fact that it seemed like a good way to kill brain cells; it also just smelled gross, and seemed to bring out the worst in people, if Master Roshi was any indication. It was something Gohan had absolutely no interest in trying out, especially in a future where he could barely tell any of these drinks apart.

... All the same, he couldn't help but peek at Videl as she got her drink.

"So um... what'd you get?"

[notwithoutafight]

Videl didn't bother to hide her disappointment at Gohan passing up the opportunity to try a drink. Though the subject of drinking had never come up between them, Videl wasn't surprised that Gohan acted exactly like she expected him to: total hesitation at something socially normal. What kind of teenager didn't want to try alcohol at least once in their life? Videl had fond memories of swiping a can of her dad's beer for a sleepover with Erasa when they first started high school. The taste of beer was absolutely revolting and they ended up pouring most of it down the sink, but the two girls boasted loudly of their drinking prowess during their freshman year.

Nowadays, as a mature eighteen year old woman, Videl knew that any alcohol worth drinking was a brightly colored mixture containing juice and sugary syrup. The drink that the bartender presented to Videl was exactly that: a vibrant rainbow spreading out in a wide martini glass with a soft-light hologram projecting a laughing cloud raining multicolored liquid into the glass.

"It's called a 'rainbeau,'" Videl answered as she lifted the glass and took a delicate sip. The drink tasted like a combination of cotton candy and fireworks, somehow tasting exactly like she would expect a rainbow to taste. She set it down with a pleased sigh, then turned back to Gohan.

"Do you want to try some of mine? It says right here that the synthehol ones like this are non-addictive and don't have any harmful side effects." Videl pointed a short paragraph on the menu that explained the difference between traditional alcohol and the outrageously popular synthehol that even minors were allowed to drink.

[fourstars]

Gohan's face scrunched up a bit at Videl's offer. Not exactly a frown, but still a clear sign of hesitation on the half saiyan's behalf. Even if it looked plenty colorful, Gohan wasn't sure if it would've been a good idea for the both of them to be drinking.

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't at least curious about it.

"Um, what's it taste like?" He was curious about that part specifically. From what he remembered, beer just... smelled absolutely gross. "It's not like beer, is it?"

[whyarewehere]

There was food. There was drink. There were people who thought he was great. It was the best night Grif'd had in...

Well. A really, really long time.

He was too wrapped up in explaining some key facts to some friendly strangers to get hung up on that detail.

"The point is," he said, spreading a hand out on the bar with great authority, "they're all idiots. I'm like a built in safety feature. Someone has to remind them they're idiots."

[wherenoonegoes]

"I believe that's because it takes one to know one." Hiccup said jovially, interrupting what was no doubt a fascinating discussion.

The asshole dragon was right behind him, looking entirely to innocent.

[whyarewehere]

Grif was completely sidetracked from whatever witty rejoinder he had in mind when he noticed Toothless.

It was hard not to notice Toothless.

"They let him in?" he asked, brows rising.

[wherenoonegoes]

"Well, since he's here, I assume so." Hiccup said wryly.

"I mean, it's not like I could've snuck him in. He's a little too big and this place is a little too crowded for that."

Meanwhile, the people who had been paying such rapt attention to Grif were now looking over at Toothless. One alien woman is cooing over out adorable he is.

[whyarewehere]

Grif rolled his eyes. "And I thought they had all kinds of standards in the future. Shouldn't this be against a health code?"

Nevermind that the media had been treating Toothless just as much like a hero as any of them. Well, maybe a hero mascot.

Stupid Hiccup and his chick magnet dragon.

[ringslinging]

"You're more fun than the guy who did that for me back home, so I'll take it," Hal said nonchalantly from two seats down.

[whyarewehere]

Grif waved a finger at him.

"Flattery won't make me stop!" he replied, clearly sensing an ulterior motive.

[ringslinging]

"Grif. If I had ulterior motives, I can see at least five women I'd be turning them towards here instead of talking to you."

And that was before turning his head to look at the rest of the bar.

(Truth be told, though, Hal hadn't found himself needing to rely on flattery to get very far, either. Legion affiliation was apparently a +5 modifier to irresistable in the eyes of some sentients.)

[whyarewehere]

"Just so long as they all know you're an idiot," Grif replied with a magnanimous shrug. "I'm doing a public service."